Welcome to Anna S. Fiction, home of original gay erotic fiction by Anna S. My works are inspired by the French author Anais Nin, who published several volumes of erotica in the 1900's. My aim, through my works, is to explore the nature of the erotic - what we find arousing and why, and how even actions which we may find morally reprehensible may be made erotic through the proper use of tone and a form of the literary suspension of disbelief.
That sounds classy enough, I suppose. And the logo, with the vintage typewriter and the nom de plume with "Fiction" right there in the name, says "real writer." What's this? There seems to be some sort of key to exploring the archive:
F fantasy element
M multiple partners (simultaneously or in quick succession)
R rape or non-consensual sex
S shota (pederasty)
Y sex-toys or other foreign implements
OK, I guess I'll go right to the stories with the most letters following their titles. Maybe I'll add a few letters of my own.
"Xenophon," FRTC, WHAT
"The Octopus King is my guest," Poseidon said, his voice stiff and abrupt. "You will do whatever he asks of you; I wish for him to be pleased."
"Simon the Magician," BFMRY, THE
Simon wiggled it back and forth a little for good measure, just to torment the rabbit, and was pleased to see the body beneath him writhe at the sensation. Satisfied, Simon murmured, "lubricus," and drew out the wand.
"The Slave Boy," BMRV, FUCK???
The boy closed his eyes, humiliation seeping into his every pore like a thick syrup as he felt the dog thrust wildly into his anus.
Without even proceeding to "Sex-Toy Factory," "Pony Rides" and the whole "Good Manners for Good Little Boys" series, you can gather that Anna S. Fiction's mission to "take often horrific, absurd, or offensive subjects and mold them into the pleasingly erotic" has failed spectacularly. However, she has certainly crafted the stuffiest artist statement ever attached to Internet child-horse porn stories. At least she takes her rabbit-rape prose very seriously.
A winning Fanart Gallery entry, from the artist 'TwilightSpeaks.'
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
Awful Links of the Day spotlights the worst and weirdest websites on the internet. And we're not talking "weird" in a good way either.